


Years from now

by 1000lux



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: ...sort of, Canon Divergence, Coda, Established Relationship, M/M, athelstan lives, because I was sad about athelnar, comfort writing, floki doesn't kill athelstan, how it could have gone, just a little feel good piece, ragnar lives, season 5, they both live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Yes, Ragnar didn't have much business going into Kattegat anylonger.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to either the series or the characters.

It had been a while since Ragnar had actually gone into Kattegat. But now that his sons had returned from England, that was certainly a reason. Ubbe had come back earlier, after a falling out, and had come to stay with him and Athelstan out at their farm for a few weeks.

People didn't watch Ragnar fondly anylonger. Not since that last disastrous attack on Frankia, which had also been the last time Ragnar had seen his brother. The same ones who had looked out to share his success had turned from him the second it had deserted him. It was sobering, disillusioning. He hadn't wanted to be with these people anylonger. The people he'd once considered his brothers and friends, but oh, so many of his friends had already died through the years or turned from him. He couldn't stay and Athelstan had followed him. Athelstan hadn't really felt save there ever since he'd reclaimed his Christian faith, had stayed solely for Ragnar. He didn't mind leaving everything behind and starting fresh. They had left together. 

He still remembered, at that time Kattegat had stopped being home to Athelstan for quite some time. Ragnar had promised him that he would keep him save and he'd done that. But Ragnar had known it had become more and more unbearable. How could it not, when Ragnar saw how they looked at him when he moved through their rows in the great hall, only Ragnar's word keeping them from doing more then pushing and shoving here and there.

And when Ragnar had returned from Frankia the second time, he had realised he couldn't do it anylonger either. Everything had fallen to pieces. His dreams of a settlement in England, where he could have farmed, where Athelstan could have been back with his own people. He'd had a vision for that place. Maybe even a little church one day, maybe some Christians settling among them after the years passed. And maybe already the next generation wouldn't have known it any different anylonger. But it had only been a dream, a dream that had been broken by reality. They both weren't welcome anylonger. Maybe he should have seen that years ago, he'd always been too different to fully be accepted by others as something other than a successful eccentric. But no one wanted an unsuccessful eccentric. He had always wanted too many things he couldn't have. Athelstan being all of his hopes and dreams he'd managed to hold onto throughout the years.

So all he could do was leave. With Athelstan.

And Ragnar had done what he should have done years ago. He had gone back to farming.

Whatever happened in Kattegat wasn't his business anylonger and he had done nothing when Lagertha had taken over, not that he could have done anything anylonger. Now Lagertha was ruling with the same bitterness and lust for power that had never quite left her again. That Ragnar blamed himself for, blamed the seer for, blamed Kalf for. And Aslaug, she had left Kattegat after that, not willing to live at Lagertha's goodwill, protected only by the fact that Ragnar was only living a few hours away. She had divorced Ragnar, not that that marriage hadn't been more than a farce at that point, and gone to marry King Harald, biding her time to destroy Lagertha, just like Harald was biding his time to take Kattegat and all of Norway.

And years later, Kattegat was still under Lagertha's rule. And his son Ivar would be the one to unite the different earldoms and kingdoms to start a campaign bigger than anything Ragnar could have ever dreamed of. Convincing even King Harald to join him in his endevors. Ivar's relationship to his stepfather had never been a good one, Ragnar could already tell that this son of his had more ambition than even King Harald himself. At the age when Bjorn had chosen to leave with his mother, Ivar had had returned to Kattegat to live with Floki. Still, he had managed to win them all for his attack on England. Bjorn hadn't been there to share his triumph, he had sailed to the Mediterranean together with King Harald's brother, the unlikely friendship between those two cultivated despite the deep enmity that should have extended to them as well. And they hadn't returned yet.

Yes, Ragnar didn't have much business going into Kattegat anylonger. Seeing Lagertha only saddened both of them, seeing the things that could have been and never would again, for his mistakes and her pride. His friendship with Floki had cooled evermore over the years, while the other had instead become more of a father to Ivar than Ragnar'd ever been. Ivar himself regarding him with some sort of antagonistic reverance, like he was taking the things he could use from him and vowed to never make the same mistakes, while all the while still secretly trying to live up to him. The only one of his sons who still showed him unbroken love and accepted his relationship with Athelstan without remark, was Bjorn. But Bjorn had been away for three years now. His other sons would drop by from time to time. He hadn't seen too much of them growing up, as Aslaug had taken them with her. But it was only a two day trip by boat. And as they grew up, they would come to see their legendary father who'd fallen so from grace. But it wasn't so often, usually, like now with Ubbe, when they needed something or couldn't go anywhere else.

Still Ragnar had no regrets. Had found the last over ten years had been more peaceful than all of his life before. And anyone who really knew Ragnar, knew that all he'd ever been was curious, not ambitious. And these days, all he wanted was peace. He'd seen of the world all he needed to. He'd had no interest in joining Bjorn to see the Mediterranean, despite the offer. He had no more interest in the constant battle for power Lagertha had been in and would be for the rest of her life. 

He'd had his share of new places, riches and loot. And if he was being honest, the only piece of loot worth keeping he'd found already on his first journey to England. So it seemed only fitting that he would be all he'd left in the end.

But there wasn't much more they needed. The ground provided for them. Athelstan had learned what he hadn't know from Ragnar and together they could farm for just the two of them.

And over the years Ragnar had found that Athelstan's god was a much more kind one than his own were. For he'd let them live here in peace for so long, leaving them untouched by war, famine or prophecies. For who else would it have been protecting them, when Ragnar would be woken by Athelstan's prayers every morning, while Ragnar hadn't made a sacrifice in years or as much as wasted a thought on them.

When they came into town to trade for some of the few things they couldn't produce themselves, they were by now treated as curiousities, with a certain acceptance that comes with habit. The odd ones out. The former king and his priest.

And now Ragnar's sons had come back.

They both stood expectantly at the harbor, together with all the others. People still giving them a berth when they came, like they didn't really want to test whether they could go up against him. Ragnar wound his hand into Athelstan's long braid, as they stood waiting, brimming with an anticipation he hadn't felt in a long time. But Ragnar had a feeling that something curious was going to happen. He grinned at Athelstan.

Athelstan rolled his eyes at him fondly, Ragnar having shared his sudden inspiration with him earlier. "It's probably just going to have been a normal raid. So God will, both your sons will be in good health. What do you think is going to happen? One of your sons bringing home his own Christian?"

They both laughed.

Then Ivar brought home his own Christian.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So now we actually see Ivar return. This is a fun chapter.

Floki stepped beside Ragnar. "You have come. That is good."

"My sons are coming home." Ragnar simply replied.

"You shouldn't have brought him, though." Floki continued, eying Athelstan with the never-ceasing disdain that spoke of years of concentrated training.

"Floki," Ragnar started exasperated. "For the love of God–" He stopped there, startled. "I mean, by Thor's hammer!"

Floki just started at him horrified and disillusioned.

"I didn't mean anything by it." Ragnar amended quickly. "It's just a saying. I've heard it everyday for years now. Come on. You can't still be like this. Last year, when you tried to find the land of the gods, did I laugh at you when your entire population ran from you? And when Lagertha wouldn't even let you return at first, who let you stay with them for weeks?"

Floki grumbled. "I'm just saying. And you really shouldn't have brought him. Ivar won't like that."

That moment the ships had finally arrived. Ivar came walking towards them with the new contraptions on his legs that allowed him to walk upright. Behind him, his men were dragging a warrior.

"Father! Floki!" Ivar marched straight towards them. "Look what I found!"

Floki frowned. "You brought a Christian warrior?"

Ivar's face lit up. "Oh, no, no. That is a Christian priest." He turned to one of his men. "Put him on his feet. Give him a weapon. Ake, Brynjar, you fight him."

Ragnar watched as Ivar's eyes followed the priest in mesmerized bedazzlement, as he easily killed the two warriors and was only with great effort grabbed and disarmed by five other warrirors who stepped in. Ivar's gaze whipped back to Floki and his father, brimming with pride and satisfaction. "So? Isn't he gorgeous? That's what a priest should be like. He's mine now."

Floki made a unintelligible noise that sounded a lot like a dying goat. Ragnar gave a only half-hazardly disguised snicker. At Floki's angry stare, he just put up his hands apologetically. "I didn't say anything. I'm not–" Now a real laugh broke out of him. "...judging."

"Athelstan!" Floki exclaimed. "That's Athelstan's fault! I saw him praying in the woods the other day."

Ragnar's eyes immediately narrowed. "You watched Athelstan? Pray?"

Meanwhile Athelstan had long walked over to the confinded priest and started talking to him.

*

The hut was cold when they returned. The fire having burned down hours ago.

"Well," Ragnar reached for Athelstan's head, putting a kiss to the top of it. "What do you think of all that?"

Athelstan smiled, as he knelt down to rekindle the fire. Smile transforming into a grin, when he looked up at Ragnar. "It's a surprise." He chuckled to himself. "Poor Floki."

Ragnar rolled his eyes. "'Poor Floki'." He shook his head. "But he can fight. That's a real surprise."

"I know."

"No, I mean, he can »really« fight." Ragnar emphazised.

Athelstan punched him in the side playfully. "Shut up. I'm not that bad."

Ragnar grinned, evading another punch, finally grabbing Athelstan's arms. "You're not that good. Hey, no kicking!" He leaned in and gave Athelstan a quick kiss. "To be honest, I'm not that good." 

Ragnar flopped down on the bed, pulling Athelstan with him.

"What did he say?" Rolling onto his stomach, face propped on his hands, looking at him with expectant eyes, Ragnar looked like not a year had passed.

"Not much. He's the Bishop of Sherborne."

"Is that good?"

"It's important."

"So, Aethelwulf will want him back?"

"Did Ivar seem like he was going to return him?"

Ragnar shrugged apologetically. "He's my son."

"What's to happen to him?" Athelstan asked then, earnest now. "Ivar is... volatile."

"I don't know. When have you ever seen Ivar excited about anyone?"

"The bishop... he might not act the way Ivar expects him to."

"Would it bother you if he dies?"

"Yes. It would."

Ragnar shrugged, turning onto his back again. "Then I'll see to it that he won't."

*

Ragnar watched the priest who was just now staring down a viking warrior who'd tried to insult him.

"He is so different than you." Ragnar said shaking his head.

"I'm not going to take that as an insult." Athelstan replied, going back to picking out vegetables.

Ragnar smiled broadly. "It wasn't an insult. I love you best, priest, don't you know that?"

Athelstan shushed him. "Don't say stuff like that here in the marketplace."

Ragnar leaned in confidentially, his braid falling over his shoulder. "I think they know."

*

Ragnar walked over to him. "You, priest."

The man spun around. "You speak our language too." He eyed him with suspicion.

"Yes. My friend," he pointed over at Athelstan. "taught me when he first came here."

"You are Ragnar Lothbrok." the priest stated tersely.

"Yes." Ragnar nodded happily. "How could you tell?"

"I could tell."

"How do you find... our town?" Ragnar gazed at him with wide and curious eyes.

Heahmund did not answer. "The man who talked to me yesterday. He is the monk who lived at King Ecbert's court."

"Yes. Now answer my question. How can you be a knight and a priest?"

"I protect the holy church from non-believers."

Ragnar nodded. "That makes perfect sense. I told Athelstan so years ago."

 

Ivar had stepped beside Athelstan. "What's he doing?"

Athelstan smiled fondly. "Being curious."

They stood there, both watching for a moment.

"What is your plan, Ivar?"

"What is your plan, Athelstan?" Ivar returned with a smirk. "Do you want to start a little congregation, now that it's the two of you?"

Athelstan smiled mildly at the youth. "At least we can take each other's confession, right?"

Ivar laughed. It was always surprising how much Ragnar's sons had picked up about Christianity over the years.

"He is going to fight for me." Ivar said proudly.

"Is he?"

"Why so sceptical, priest? You did fight for my father, did you not?"

Athelstan paused. "Oh, you are aiming high here, Ivar."

*

"I'm glad you couldn't fight like that." Ragnar said later, when they were making their way back to their hut.

"Why?"

"Well, we might have killed each other and I would have never gotten to know you. Also you looked so cute sitting there on the ground, clutching your book."

"It's a gospel."

"I know, I know."

They had continued their way up into the mountain for a while longer, when Athelstan spoke again.

"Ragnar."

"What is it, priest?" Ragnar turned around with an raised eyebrow accompanied smile.

"I think I sprained my ankle."

"Really?"

Athelstan only nodded.

Ragnar picked him off the ground, discarding their baggage and carried him further up the path. They went on like that for a while, Ragnar laboriously carrying Athelstan through a small stream, when suddenly he stopped, flopping Athelstan down on the grass. "This is as far as I can take you. You're too heavy."

"You're getting old." Athelstan remarked with a smirk.

"How can you say that?" Ragnar asked with a fake gasp. "I am changed by your words. Nothing can console me."

Athelstan laughed. "Sit down and be still. You didn't have to carry me, you know. Just supporting me would have sufficed."

Ragnar just gave him a look. "The things I do for you. And no thanks. Not ever." He shook his head regretfully, peeking at Athelstan with a barely concealed grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seemingly I could not let those two be. I hope some of you recognized the dialogue from the show (well more a monologue).


End file.
